Living with your parents is cool

The name of my blog has been up for debate should the time ever arise that I move out of my parents house, but you know what: Whether or not I actually live at home has nothing to do with the inherent "coolness" of living with your parents. Living with your parents is cool. 

Okay, clearly setting you up here. Like when people tell you something really great and it's because they're about to manipulate the fuck out of you--you have to be on your toes. ANYWAY: I've moved out. I am not living with my parents anymore. Last night was my first night away from ma and pa, so I feel like I am being pretty honest with you here. Here are things I'm concerned about:

1. Food: Where will it come from? 

2. My room: how will I ever remember to clean it without being told? 

3. My current location 24/7: How will anyone know my whereabouts since my mother won't be able to give them an update?

4. Missing items: how will I find them if no one asks me where I last put them.

5. My computer and all other potentially electronic items: will they charge themselves? 

I was living my building the other day and I was pretty excited to be "getting my own place" so I told my doorman. I was like, "Guess what! I'm moving out," and he said, "Are your parents coming with you?"